


of course it's not like in the movies

by luni



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Comedy, Dirty Talk, First Time, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, Light breathplay, M/M, No penetration, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Series, Premature Ejaculation, Romance, Spanking, Tie Kink, general sappiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-10-04 10:04:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10274441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luni/pseuds/luni
Summary: Yuuri didn't know what he expected when having sex with Viktor Nikiforov stopped being a teenage fantasy and turned into reality.One thing is for sure: it's not like in the movies.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> back with pwps!! i'm on a roll!! why do i either write a thousand fics in a day or go for months without writing a single sentence!!  
> this is for my best friend because i made her suffer with my latest fic so she deserves all the pwps  
> hope you enjoy bc writing this was the most fun i've had today

After the gala and the surprise ice dancing with Victor, after the longest ride back to the hotel _ever_ , after the realization of having won silver at the Grand Prix Final sinks in...

  
...Yuuri is anxious.

  
As always, you say. But this time it's different. It's good anxious! That's what he tells himself at least.

  
He sits on the same bed in the same hotel room in which, a few days ago, he made Victor cry: he talked of retirement, of being thankful for his time, he made Victor angry and even offended him with his nonexistant skills in dealing with crying people.

  
Now he's listening to the sound of running water, impatient to do something about the... well, _thing_ that is currently perking up between his thighs.

  
Yuuri supposes it's Victor's fault (as always), because really, no one should look that good in a dark blue trench coat, flushed cheeks and hair blowing in all directions thanks to Barcelona's windy night. It's definitely not Yuuri's fault if he gets an erection thinking of Victor in a coat, because that's ridiculous. Definitely not his fault. At all.

  
"Please don't tell me you want to talk."

  
He must have been daydreaming, because Victor is speaking right beside him as if he just teleported there. So, Yuuri jumps, fidgets, turns to the side a little bit and finds cheeky blue eyes staring at him.

  
"No I don't," he shoots back, scoffing. Victor exhales a sarcastic _ha!_ , and runs a hand through his damp hair.

  
Now, having Victor so close, clad in just a bathrobe and slippers and nothing else, would be the appropriate time for-

  
Oh.

  
_Oh no he forgot._

  
Yuuri really, really can't cover his erection now, because that would be too obvious.

  
That's why he stays still.

  
Victor cracks a smile.

  
"You say you don't want to talk," he drawls, risking a glance downwards, and Yuuri whimpers. "What do you want to do, then?"

  
Busted.

  
"I... showered first."

  
Now Victor's eyebrows are really stretching up, trying to reach his hairline, keyword 'trying'. "Yes, you did shower first, that's, uh, something to be proud of. I guess. No, wait. I don't understand."

  
"I meant to say- we're ready. I'm ready. So..."

  
Come on! That should be obvious! There are two freshly showered people, in a hotel room, and one of them has a hard-on, the other is barely clothed, they are kind of together, and...!

  
"...ready for bed?"

  
"Are we talking about the same bed?"

  
Victor's eyes are now reduced to two thin lines. "Are there more beds than I know of...?"

  
Oh, the mere thought of swearing aloud in Japanese is so tempting.

  
"You're so _thick_ , Victor-"

  
Something happens.

  
No, Victor doesn't understand. That would be glorious.

  
It's just that, multiple-meanings-for-same-word be blessed, he understands something _else_.

  
So Victor blushes, harshly, all the way down his neck and past the soft fabric of the bathrobe.

  
Yuuri, who isn't as dense as him, gets it, and covers his face.

  
"...ok. I think I understand now."

  
"Forget it! You ruined everything."

  
"Yuuri, we could always-"

 

"Leave me here to die of shame."

  
"I was joking, come on."

  
Victor's voice is amused, and Yuuri knows he would never take a joke too far, so he stops hiding his face and turns back to face him. He's smiling, fondness filling up the blue of his eyes. "I just wanted to get it out of you."

  
"...get what out of me?"

  
A shrug. "I wanted to see if you could ask me directly. About sleeping together."

  
Yuuri mentally deadpans, 'sleeping is the last thing I want to do tonight', but he also mentally whips himself, so it's all good when he opens his mouth to answer.

  
"Yes I want to. Badly."

  
Maybe that was too direct.

  
But Victor doesn't seem to mind, because he's wearing Seductive Smirk #24 and cocking his head to the side.

  
"Perfect," he purrs, and Yuuri shivers at the sudden depth of his voice. "How do you want to do it? I'm up for almost anything. Just tell me what you like."

  
Yuuri really likes kissing, he thinks, remembering that time they made out in his bedroom a few days before leaving for Barcelona. He also likes to have his ears played with. Hands running through his hair are good, too.

  
And then...

  
His face scrunches up.

  
"We could always do it another time," says Victor, a hint of surprise in his voice as Seductive Smirk #24 starts to crumble.

  
Shoot. Victor probably likes the steamiest stuff. Would he even care about neck kisses? Yuuri feels like a little child sitting in front of a way too complicated game.

  
"No, I want to do it now. It's just that I... don't know what I like."

  
Seductive Smirk #24 morphs into a new expression, and Yuuri thinks he's never seen that before.

  
"I'll help you figure it out, if you want me to."

  
The bathrobe slips down, revealing a pale, delicious shoulder and more of Victor's chest.

  
Yuuri decides he'll call it the Seduction Achieved Look.

  
"So?" Victor pushes, blinking a few times with those pretty eyelashes. He licks his lips, and waits.

  
"I really need to kiss you."

  
He's been staring at Victor's lips for at least fifteen seconds. Of course Victor already knows! No need to point that out! But he does! Because he's the dense one after all! Good job Yuuri.

  
Seduction Achieved Look Mark II makes its entrance.

  
"My mouth is all yours," says Victor, as he leans forward and brushes his warm lips on Yuuri's.

  
Maybe Yuuri should kiss him first, because he's pretty sure this isn't a proper kiss. Victor's never started like that.

  
So Yuuri kisses him. Soft, slow pecks. He traces the prominent veins of Victor's forearms with his fingers, notices that this time they both keep their eyes open. He finds it weird.

  
He just goes with it.

 

 

  
Eventually, Yuuri closes his eyes- right as Victor's fingers stroke a lazy, slow path up Yuuri's cock.

  
"Oh my _God_ ," he breathes, and Victor smiles. He's kneeling between Yuuri's spread legs, bathrobe falling open on his body, Yuuri's trousers and boxers still bunched up somewhere behind him.

  
"It's very pretty."

  
"What- why are you talking about it like that!?"

  
Victor shrugs and circles the slit with a curious finger, and Yuuri whimpers. He needs more. So much more. "I've seen a few, and yours looks nice."

  
Yuuri's whole face scrunches up. "I never thought they could be pretty. They're just..."

  
"Just cocks, right." A puff of laughter escapes Victor's lips, but his eyes never leave Yuuri's body. He grabs the base of his erection, smiling wider as Yuuri yelps and his hips shoot up into his hand. "Ah, you really want this."

  
So maybe Yuuri is a bit irritated, but he manages to be decent enough not to bite Victor's face off. " _Yes_ , Victor, I want it, can you do something about it, please?"

  
"How polite!"

  
" _Victor_."

  
Yuuri is almost regretting the pointy shard of ice in his voice at that command, but when Victor smiles baring his teeth and tugs, _hard_ , on his cock, he wishes he was way more dominant than that, because if that's what he gets...

  
"Speaking of what I like," he says conversationally, hand working Yuuri's cock so fast he doesn't have the strength or will to fix his lopsided glasses, "ordering me around is strongly encouraged. You get this serious look, kind of pissed off, it suits you so well and your voice sounds wonderful like that, so yeah. I love that."

  
Maybe Yuuri would answer. The problem is Victor's warm, warm hand running up and down his cock, his _right_ hand, which means his ring is pressing right on that throbbing vein that Yuuri loves to prod with his nails when he jerks off- and the ring is so unexpectedly warm, it makes his blood boil.

  
And no, Yuuri doesn't answer. So Victor goes on.

  
"I think you realized already, but I enjoy dirty talk. Though it's ok if you don't! Never be afraid to tell me what you don't like."

  
Yuuri thinks, in a split second of foolishness, that he should take notes. Then, bewildered at himself, swallows despite his very dry throat and lets his eyes roam down Victor's neck and chest and stomach and- he looks back up again, it's easier this way.

  
"Small steps, Yuuri. Don't rush it."

  
"Y-yeah..."

  
It's only natural that, after having said such a kind and considerate thing, Victor's hand twists on Yuuri's cock and thumbs at the precum gathered on its tip.

  
Yuuri _shouts_.

  
"You're lucky I was raised to be polite," he spits through gritted teeth, as Victor's left hand strokes the entire length of one of Yuuri's thighs. He gets the sweetest smile in return.

  
"I'm lucky to be here between your legs."

  
"Oh- _ohh_ , please-" Yuuri scoffs, and is cut off by a moan, and resumes his scoffing. Victor's laugh seems to come right out of his chest, as he shifts on his knees, and-

  
Ah.

  
Victor moans, and it's a very throaty moan that rips the strongest shudder from Yuuri's body. Their cocks are pressed together, Yuuri can feel it, and Victor's is thicker, and so hard-

  
"Mhmm _yes_. Do you like it, Yuuri..?" he asks, breathless, back arched as he lowers his body on top of Yuuri's; he's thrusting his hips back and forth, the friction between their lengths snapping every coherent thought in half, though Yuuri manages to nod perhaps too many times, trembling hands sliding down Victor's hips and even lower to cup his ass.

  
"Faster?" groans Victor, pushing his hips a bit more into Yuuri's hands. Yuuri grunts a small _yes_ , and is promptly rewarded. He never thought Victor's hips could move so fast- yeah, he thought of that before, and he suspects he'll think of many more wonderful things now, because Victor is coming on his stomach and making the sweetest faces, his eyes fall open and his jaw trembles and Yuuri can't help but follow him, lost in his own pleasure.

  
Victor rolls to the side, looks down appreciatively at the mess Yuuri's made on his skin, and grins through heavy breaths. Yuuri fake-glares at him the whole time.

  
"I liked this shirt and you ruined it."

  
"Wow, Yuuri! You came a lot."

  
Really.

  
"...Victor, please. Please."

  
"Hah, sorry," he laughs, and gulps and clears his throat, and Yuuri has never been more in love, he thinks.

  
Yuuri feels _good_ , more than anything. He wants to hold Victor's hand but he's too tired, so he settles for blushing and drawing his knees together. His voice is soft as he addresses his fiancé again. "I don't really care about the shirt anyway. That was... good."

  
He can swear Victor blushes, as well. Yes, he does: he can see it when Victor rolls back to hold him in his arms.

  
"I'm glad. It was good for me too."


	2. Chapter 2

It's not that Victor has a bad case of blue balls.

  
What if, when Yuuri's practicing and Victor is supposed to coach him, he ends up daydreaming? Completely missing Yuuri's polished quad flip because he's too busy thinking of him under Victor, knees pushed apart and cock thumping against his stomach at every thrust, scrambling for purchase everywhere on Victor's shoulders and chest as he drives into him and rips groans of pleasure out of his pretty mouth-

  
Okay. Maybe Victor does have a bad case of blue balls.

  
But it could be worse, he tells himself, to soften the blow.

  
"How was that?" asks a very breathless Yuuri, getting off the ice with a giddy smile on his face. Victor almost grimaces: how was _what?_

  
"That was good! Though there's still room for improvement."

  
The Vaguest Comment Ever does wonders for the arch of Yuuri's eyebrows.

  
"What," deadpans Victor, wearing his best I Don't Know What You're Talking About mask.

  
"It's nothing! I just..." Yuuri shrugs, sitting down with a huff on the bench to remove his skates. "I thought I nailed it."

  
Victor realizes he's probably talking about the quadruple flip, and mentally kicks himself because he should really have payed attention, instead of having, ah, inappropriate thoughts. And when it's not that, all he thinks about are new ideas for his own programs, even if he's not allowed to go through them without Yakov's supervision. In his very grumpy-and-shouty opinion, Victor should never be left alone with his ideas ever again, and he can't let all the responsibility fall on Yuuri all the time, can he?

  
All in all, he's being a terrible coach, a disaster student, and a horrible fiancé.

  
"Victor."

  
Aside from landing the quadruple flip more consistently and getting a good grasp on the basics of the Russian language, Yuuri learnt to read the many moods Victor can go through in the span of a single training session; that's why he just calls his name, expecting no answer, patting the free space on the bench beside him.

  
As soon as Victor sits down, wearing a defeated smile, Yuuri pulls him into a hug, circling his shoulders with awkward, stiff arms. Victor surrenders immediately against Yuuri's warm, sweat-damp shirt and groans lowly in his throat.  _This is nice._

  
"Maybe this is too much for you. You should focus on your own programs instead of coaching me all the time... I can handle myself."

  
Yuuri's words are kind, and reasonable, but Victor snakes out of the hug with a frown anyway. "No- I'm not that tired, it's not that... I feel guilty."

  
A single raise of a single eyebrow, and Apprehensive Yuuri turns all of a sudden into Doubtful Yuuri.

  
Victor keeps going, wrenching his gaze away from Yuuri. "I'm not paying attention to you when I should. All I'm thinking about are my routines, and..."

  
"And?"

  
Victor sighs dramatically, closing his eyes for added effect. "Sex."

  
"...oh."

  
Another sigh. "I know."

  
Opening his eyes again after the lack of an answer, Victor blinks at least thrice at Yuuri's red, red cheeks and constant fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "Now that you mention it... it's been kind of a long time since we last, uh..."

  
Now it's Victor who raises his eyebrows, though his disbelief mutes quickly into amusement and adoration, in equal parts. "Yuuri, it's been a week! And I thought I was being unreasonable!"

  
"It's still a lot!" says Yuuri in his defence, the beginnings of a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. Victor can't wait for said frown to come out just to kiss it away.

  
"So cute, Yuuri. You can't resist me!"

  
"Who would," says Yuuri in a low voice, risking a sideways glance at Victor, just to let it fall ever so slowly down Victor's body. He isn't doing it on purpose, but it does a very good job of pushing all the right buttons for Victor, who snorts to hide his complacency.

  
"Now you just want to flatter me."

  
"...Victor, I'm trying to be seductive."

  
_How adorable._ "Believe me, it's working."

  
"It doesn't look like that at all!" laughs Yuuri, shaking his head. He resumes taking off his skates (Victor considers offering himself to do it, just to rile him up a bit more), and gathers his belongings as Victor leads the way out.

 

 

 

No matter the circumstances, Yuuri follows their training and eating regimens religiously: when they get home, he insists they eat a proper dinner and take a shower before going to bed. Victor pouts with no real fight in him, hoping to be rewarded with Yuuri's half-lidded, _no-you-don't_ stare that is the exact copy of Mari's and reminds him of their time in Hasetsu; when Yuuri indulges him (he probably figured it out weeks ago) he huffs to himself and fetches Makkachin's leash to take him out for a walk, as Yuuri busies himself with knives and pans and all kinds of vegetables.

  
They eat as soon as Victor and Makkachin come back, both plates and Makkachin's bowl ready and full. Yuuri showers first as Victor clears the table and does the dishes, humming the song of his short program.

  
He's thinking of switching up his last jump combination when Yuuri presses his body into him, chest flush against Victor's back, hands sliding on Victor's hips.

  
"You could just leave them in the sink," says Yuuri, pout evident in his voice as he presses a warm cheek between Victor's shoulderblades. He smirks, taking his sweet time to rinse the cutlery.

  
"I don't think so, I'm almost done. Just be patient."

  
"Mrrmrgmrkf."

  
"What was that?"

  
"I'll wait for you in bed then."

  
"Good boy. I won't be long!"

  
Victor turns his head around, knowingly, and smirks as he sees a very bright flush sitting on Yuuri's cheeks: that particular pet name works wonders both in and out of bed. He keeps staring at Yuuri as he walks out of the kitchen, pleased smirk quickly turning into a loving smile.

 

 

 

Walking out of the shower and finding Yuuri laying on the bed, eyes closed, brows drawn together in concentration and a hand moving down his boxers, is the least surprising thing Victor expected but he's pleased nonetheless.

  
"I thought you'd wait for me," he says petulantly, knees already on the bed. Yuuri smiles, keeping his eyes closed, hand picking up the pace.

  
"You insisted on doing the dishes instead of coming with me."

  
"We'll do that soon enough."

  
"...English is a weapon in your hands. You should be ashamed."

  
Victor acknowledges Yuuri's words with a faint _hah_ , too distracted by the motions of Yuuri's wrist to think of a proper comeback. He gives in and climbs up the bed, looming above Yuuri, as he opens his eyes and smiles expectantly: Victor cuts to the chase and drops down to kiss him fervently, Yuuri's free hand tangling in his hair, the other stopping its steady motions to give a few hard tugs on his cock, and a strangled moan rips its way out of Yuuri's mouth, joined to Victor's.

  
"Let me see you," breathes Victor after sucking on Yuuri's tongue, and exhales softly when Yuuri complies, pulling his underwear down. Victor is quick enough to lick a short path down Yuuri's outstretched neck before he stops him with a hesitant hand caressing his cheek.

  
"No- I want to do it."

  
Victor really can't find it in him to refuse Yuuri's eagerness, so he rolls to the side and on his back, Yuuri climbing on him immediately: he tugs Victor's trousers and underwear down in one single motion and takes his length in hand, pumping it roughly to full hardness, as Victor bites down on his lower lip and lets his hungry gaze rest on Yuuri's cock, falling hard and heavy between his thighs.

  
"We could take it slow next time," he groans, and Yuuri nods, tongue flicking out on dry lips as Victor twitches in his hand.

  
"Yeah, we could," is all Yuuri says before swallowing Victor's cock in his mouth, making him lose all coherent thoughts: Victor fists the sheets in both hands and exhales sharply, twitching hips kept down on the bed by Yuuri's warm, warm hands.

  
"I thought- we could do it, I could take you," moans Victor, rewarded by Yuuri's hum around his cock. He can't help but thrust in his mouth once, twice, raking a hand through Yuuri's hair, breath coming faster and faster as his orgasm approaches way too fast- but he can't complain, the vision of Yuuri's lips stretched around his cock being worth almost anything. "I could- there are so many different positions, you'll- _ah_ , you'll love it, Yuuri..."

  
At those words, Yuuri's fingernails dig sharp, red paths down the whole length of Victor's thighs as he cries out, release just a few thrusts away.

  
"Or maybe- maybe you could take me, yeah, that's even better. I bet you'd be so good at it, filling me up-"

  
He can't add anything else after that, because Yuuri's mouth goes instantly slack around his cock, and he pulls back after a violent shudder, eyes big and open and... guilty?

 

_...oh._

  
Victor really, really shouldn't be so pleased.

  
Shooting an apologetic glance somewhere around Victor's shoulder, apparently unable to look him in the eye, Yuuri stutters and rubs absentmindedly at his lower lip, covered in saliva and precum. "S-sorry, I... I got carried away."

  
Despite being on the brink of release and tormented by the sweetest thoughs of Yuuri taking him from behind, rough and demanding, Victor smiles up at him. "Don't worry. Looks like you enjoyed what I said."

  
A shy nod is enough of an answer already, but Yuuri loves surprising Victor even in the smallest things, so when he lowers down to kiss the patch of skin under his earlobe in such a _filthy_ manner, Victor whimpers shamelessly.

  
"Can we do that someday?"

 

 

 

Victor no longer has a bad case of blue balls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back and i turned this into a multichapter fic because i want to cram all pwps in one place instead of flooding the tag  
> hope you enjoyed this & see you next time for more filth!!


	3. Chapter 3

One would think that, after the first blowjob, sex becomes instantly better.

  
Well, Mr. One is clearly _wrong_. Mr. One should mind his own business and think about his own sex life. This is no laughing matter.

  
The Matter is that Victor is literally _counting the days_. It's been two weeks since Yuuri sucked him off - or well, since he tried to. He was ready to let him go at it again, all kind smiles and pet names, but Yuuri never did.

  
He did something else instead.

  
Victor calls it 'Yuuri's oral fixation': foreplay now takes much longer because, before doing anything relevant to any of the genitals involved, Yuuri has to kiss and lick and gently bite every corner of Victor's upper body...

  
And he stops at Victor's sharp hipbones, usually leaving a hickey or two.

  
Mutual handjob.

  
Cleaning up.

  
Cuddling.

  
Victor waking up a full hour later, scrunching his whole face at the ceiling.

  
It's not that sex is bad with Yuuri. On the contrary! He just...

  
Well, he can't quite put a finger on it.

  
So he shrugs mentally and goes on with whatever Yuuri wants to do.

 

 

 

The answer comes (ha) after Yuuri's short program at the Four Continents Cup, as soon as his scores are announced.

  
It's a new personal best for Yuuri: his eyes are sparkling, and he melts into Victor's embrace after they leave the kiss and cry.

  
"I'm so proud of you," breathes Victor, lips brushing Yuuri's sweaty forehead, the promise of _more_ to come after they get back to the hotel room safe and sound. Yuuri's answer is lukewarm at best: he spares Victor a giggle and an uncertain smile, fumbling with his sneakers.

  
Once they make it past the door, it all becomes clear: "you should probably rest, Victor."

  
Tired, stressed, jetlagged Victor sighs, shedding his coat. "I can manage, Yuuri. You go shower first, it's been a long day-"

  
"Victor."

  
Yuuri calls him softly, with a fond smile on his flushed face.

  
So, Victor complies.

 

 

  
Inspiration strikes as Yuuri disappears into the bathroom.

  
After competitions, Yuuri never lingers in the shower so the wait won't be that long: Victor smirks to himself as he crawls on the leftmost bed (the only one they're going to use tonight). Clad in the hotel's bathrobe, he sits against the headboard and runs a hand through damp hair, slicking it back; he only has a few minutes to get in the proper mood and plan everything accordingly.

  
When Yuuri emerges, wearing a black t-shirt and loose sweatpants, the bathrobe is open on Victor's chest and a single shoulder is exposed.

  
"...I thought you were very tired and very jetlagged?" asks Yuuri, the hint of a smile pulling at his lips, as he joins Victor on the bed and caresses his cheek. Victor sighs, tilting his head to grant Yuuri more room.

  
"I am."

  
"Then what's the delicious display for?"

  
_Delicious display_. Yuuri's English is very good, and every word is chosen carefully. Victor lets those words get to his head, blinking very slowly, and replies with a huff. "You could just enjoy it."

  
Yuuri's lips break out in a full grin. "What did you have in mind?"

  
Drawing his knees together, Victor pushes his own weight more into the bed. He has a lot of things on his mind, but he can't just tell Yuuri he wants to stuff his face with his cock, can he? So he settles for the next best thing.

  
"Considering you gave me your own version of a 'delicious display' today... I wanted to return the favour."

  
Yuuri's breath hitches, and Victor notices: now he bites his lower lip.

  
"You don't have to-"

  
"But I really want to, Yuuri," he murmurs, freeing his swollen lip. "Do you?"

  
Now here's a little secret: Victor doesn't know a very important thing about Yuuri's own view of their sex life, bless miscommunication and all the time devoted to skating. Victor doesn't know that Yuuri has been waiting for _months_ for Victor's submissive side to come out, and of course is too anxious to ask. And this is both fun and juicy.

  
Back to the love-crazed couple: Yuuri runs a very, very possessive hand on Victor's outstretched leg, moving his bathrobe up in the process. And the way Yuuri's breath hitches, again, after noticing that Victor is completely naked under that, well...

  
"Show me," is all he says, soft voice and flushed cheeks and a warm hand that reluctantly leaves Victor's skin. "I'll just... watch, if you don't mind."

  
Victor's eyes light up, mouth curving into a small smirk. "No, I don't mind. Do you have any preferences?"

  
That should have been a sweet little 'please order me around', but the secret is baby steps and patience.

  
"Let me see you," he blurts out immediately, sitting back at the foot of the bed, hands resting on both knees. "All of you."

  
Just like that, the bathrobe is shed from both arms, and pools uncerimoniously behind his back: Victor hums, taking notice of Yuuri's gaze raking all over his body.

  
"It's not like you haven't seen me naked before," says Victor conversationally, as a stray lock of hair falls down on his eye. Yuuri swallows, crawling towards him.

  
"Shush," he answers, hands stroking Victor's bare hips with urgency. "Can you- um... lay on your stomach?"

  
Eyebrows raised to impossible heights, Victor chuckles. "Of course, Yuuri. I thought you'd never ask."

  
If blushing were a competitive discipline, Yuuri would be a dozen-time consecutive world champion- and this particular blush would be his latest record.

  
"Don't- I didn't _mean_ -"

  
"I'm just joking," laughs Victor, back arched as his knees dig into the mattress. He stays on all fours, instead of laying down, and suggestively wiggles his hips at Yuuri. "Although if you wanted to, we could do something else."

  
Yuuri snorts, then proceeds to carelessly shatter Victor's self-control maybe forever.

  
How does he do that, one would ask. It's very simple: Yuuri snorts, we were saying, and lightly slaps Victor's ass, right where it meets the thigh.

  
It was supposed to be for fun.

  
But then Victor _moans_ , and Yuuri's eyes almost fly out of his head.

  
"Did you just-"

  
"Please," begs Victor, breathless, and- are his arms trembling? "Please do that again."

  
"Oh my God you like it. Look how hard you are."

  
The Slap Of Doom broke Victor's self-control, and also broke Yuuri's brain-to-mouth filter in the process. Now he looks in wonder at Victor's cock, hanging heavy between his thighs. "It was just a small slap."

  
"You know what, Yuuri," groans Victor, pushing his ass up in the air, as Yuuri's blush deepens beyond human comprehension. "I really wish you'd stop staring at me like that, because I know you're staring, believe me- and maybe you could finish what you started. Just maybe. If you feel like it."

  
"Are you taking me for a fool."

  
It's not a question, and Victor draws his eyebrows together, hair now falling on his eyes. He can feel sweat pooling in the small dips at the base of his spine, fingers grabbing the sheets until the veins on the back of his hands stand out. "What?"

  
Another slap, this one a tiny bit stronger, and Victor doesn't moan: he mewls.

  
"We should have done this sooner. Tell me where you like it the most."

  
Victor quietly thanks the God of Broken Brain-To-Mouth Filters and wets his own lips, catching his breath. "I don't know- try to feel around, maybe where you did it the first time?"

  
This time, it's a yelp, but there's no slap. Yuuri is merely grabbing his round cheeks, looking for the meatiest part, fingernails digging into the soft, reddened skin. Victor can hear Yuuri's breath coming in faster bursts, and joins him as a stray finger traces his cleft and ghosts down to his ballsack.

  
Before Victor can say anything, Yuuri slaps him again, rougher, ripping a loud moan from the depths of his throat, heat rippling through his body in strong waves.

  
"I'm not even touching your cock, and you're dripping already," observes Yuuri, talking more to himself than to Victor. "You're so responsive to this."

  
It's a slow succession of grabbing, kneading, slapping and stroking: Victor isn't really sure when he collapsed head down into the pillow, hips still up in the air under Yuuri's unwavering gaze. He's very aware he's leaking precum all over the bed, and the thought just pushes him a bit further towards the edge.

  
"I'd turn you around and take you in my mouth, but to do that I'd have to stop doing this and I'm enjoying myself too much. I hope you understand."

  
_That_ takes Victor even closer to release, making him seriously consider to open himself up and begging Yuuri to finally take him. "Yuuri- please-"

  
A slap, followed by the lewdest groan Yuuri's ever heard out of Victor; then a few rough tugs on his cock, and finally Victor comes all over Yuuri's hand, mouth spread open in a silent shout as he flops down with all his body. Yuuri joins him to his side, throwing an arm around his neck, scooting closer for sweet and quick kisses.

  
"How are you doing?" he asks in a small voice.

  
Victor's mind is very busy at the moment, but he can see Yuuri is very worried about this new _thing_ , and he did promise to be a better fiancé...

  
"I feel like I woke up two hours before the alarm," he drawls, hoarse voice making all hair on Yuuri's body stand up (he's still hard, after all), "and I just looked at the time and discovered I can sleep again and I'm just so fucking happy."

  
Yuuri grins, caressing Victor's back. "I'm glad. I thought I went overboard."

  
"Hah."

  
"Are you going to sleep now?"

  
"Maybe. What about you."

  
"How can you say 'maybe' if you closed your eyes already. I think I'm- I'm going to the bathroom to, uh..."

  
"You can do it here, I don't mind."

  
"I would, but you're sleeping."

  
" _Most definitely not._ "

  
"You're speaking Russian, Victor."

 

" _Not._ "

 

"Goodnight, Victor."

 

"Yuuri wait, wait- can you clean me up? Please?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do i have to say anything beside enjoy? don't think so


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

The problem is not that Yuuri doesn’t enjoy the idea of following Victor around for competitions whenever he’s free: with Victor being assigned to Skate America and Rostelecom, and Yuuri to Skate Canada and NHK Trophy, they decided to go together to Victor's first competition. Where Yuuri had first been reluctant, Victor begged him very convincingly, and Yakov grumbled his approval in a tired voice, affirming that _Vitya needs your support._

Yuuri would gladly offer all the support Victor needs, he’s sure, but…

  


 

“It’s the first competition of the season, you’re being unreasonable.”

Despite Yuuri’s sweet tone, Victor grimaces. “I got silver.”

Rolling his eyes and shifting on the bed, Yuuri breaks their hug and starts gathering his things.

“I’m going to take a shower, then.”

“You can’t understand what it means, to be almost thirty and have people waiting for you to fail at every jump you land.”

Swallowing a harsh rebuttal, Yuuri repeats, “I’m going to take a shower,” and closes the bathroom door behind him as softly as possible, ignoring Victor's sigh.

Victor has every right to feel disappointed by a silver medal: after sitting out on last year’s Grand Prix, he obviously wanted to come back and win everything, and no, last year’s Worlds didn’t count. So what can he say? ‘Don’t be sad’? It’s not as if he could force himself to be happy just because Yuuri said so.

The safest way out of a possible Victor-breakdown is to wait it out, leave him to deal with it on his own, and hope for the best: Yuuri chuckles to himself, knowing that as soon as they return to Saint Petersburg Victor is going to practice quad loops every day until Rostelecom.

As he leaves the bathroom, Yuuri stops in his tracks, seeing Victor just in his underwear, sitting at the edge of the bed, legs spread and the sleeves of his bathrobe pooling down at his wrists.

“You know,” rasps Yuuri, resuming his walk back to the bed, his gaze never leaving Victor, “if this is how you want to deal with it, I hope you get silver at every competition for the rest of your life.”

Yuuri is sure Victor will enjoy his words: he’s on the talkative side during sex, and always has something witty or dirty to say- except this time, it doesn’t seem to be the case. His gaze hardens, mouth twitching.

“The tie you packed for the banquet,” he snaps, making Yuuri’s hair stand. “Go get it. Quick.”

He would ask, _why are you being like this,_ or _are you sure this is what you really want?,_ except he doesn’t, so he gets the tie, no questions asked.

  


 

Surprisingly, letting Victor do as he pleases turns out to be the best course of action.

Breath is kicked out of Yuuri’s lungs as Victor tugs, sharply, on the tie currently wound around his neck: he falls forward with a strained gasp, stretching his neck upwards to look at Victor's displeased face.

“I told you to go slower.”

Swallowing around the tie’s tight knot, Yuuri resumes his pace, tugging lazily at his own cock. The burn in his thighs is hard to ignore, as he kneels between Victor's spread legs: Victor's hand never leaves the tie, and the only trace of arousal is his flushed neck and the way his erection peeks out of his tight, black underwear.

Victor asked, before telling him to leave his clothes on the hotel room’s floor: he made sure the knot wasn’t too tight, he made sure Yuuri could kneel on his own shirt not to get moquette burns on his knees, and again he asked multiple times, if he really wanted to do it _that_ way, and Yuuri always answered with yes, and yes, again, and _please._

Now he’s putting on a show, kneeling between Victor's legs, knowing that for every mistake he’d tug on the tie, and Yuuri honestly _loves_ it: it’s how Victor claims him, after being defeated, that sets Yuuri’s insides on fire. He’s taking what he wants, now, and Yuuri is more than glad to provide him with everything.

Briefly, he wonders- what would have happened, had Victor's so-called defeat had a much larger impact? A shiver runs down Yuuri’s spine, and he thrusts his hips, sliding back and forth in his own hand’s tight grasp.

Victor says nothing as Yuuri starts gasping, the veins of his arms standing out as he tries to delay his release: though he notices he’s close, because he tugs, harder, and Yuuri whines, arching his back at Victor's uncharacteristic harshness.

Fingering the waistband of his underwear, Victor thrusts his hips forward with one fluid motion, easing the pull around Yuuri’s neck. “Take them off,” he instructs, and Yuuri does as he’s told, breathing through parted, dry lips as he tugs Victor's underwear down his legs, knuckles brushing on the shapely muscles of Victor's thighs, until it falls at his feet.

Swallowing with some difficulty at the sight of Victor hard, his cock resting deliciously against his inner thigh, Yuuri looks up into his eyes, pleading silently. Victor breathes through his nose and grabs the back of Yuuri’s head, pushing him forward into his crotch: Yuuri’s open mouth meets the base of Victor's cock, and he licks it lazily up to the very tip, drawing a needy grunt out of Victor's throat.

“Keep touching yourself,” he demands, voice broken as Yuuri swallows him and resumes his ministrations to himself: he can’t keep a steady pace to save himself, and Victor tugs on the tie again, a few times. Being careful not to graze Victor with his teeth, Yuuri gives it his all, focusing on Victor almost entirely. Much too soon, Victor's moans get increasingly loud and bitterness fills Yuuri’s mouth, and he almost chokes before managing to swallow most of it: a few drops dribble down his chin, and he pulls back with a soft _pop,_ unconsciously licking his lips as he stares at Victor's blissed out expression.

“Come up here,” he groans, laying back on his elbows, chest heaving; “I need you.”

Yuuri, again, asks no questions and climbs up on the bed, tie still hanging from his neck: Victor grabs it again and tugs, as their lips clash, and he moans as he tastes himself on Yuuri’s tongue.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no see!  
> i'll probably finish this fic before diving into another longfic, so expect more chapters to come in the next few weeks  
> this is probably the most angst you'll see in this fic lol. hope you enjoyed! see you next time (which will hopefully be soon)


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

If someone were to ask Yuuri, “what did Victor teach you about sex?” with that obnoxious wink, and clearly implying that Victor filled him in (ha) on the pros and cons of, say, BDSM- Yuuri would know how to answer. Oh, he would, and he’d do it in a heartbeat.

Yuuri has learnt that sex is, for example, a never-ending surprise: he can clearly remember how odd Victor tasted in his mouth the first time, how difficult it was to swallow without choking, and how obscene was the movement of Victor's hips as he came, back arching and ribcage expanding as he gasped for air. It struck Yuuri as something important to see, and to experience, to treasure- something that was meant for him, and him only.

Yuuri has also learnt that sex has a purpose, and it’s not ‘just sex’, for the sake of doing it: he loves Victor, and chooses to convey said feeling either with kisses or cuddles, or, why not- a handjob. Whenever Victor needs comfort, in any shape or form, Yuuri will give him anything he needs, molding himself at will in every possible shape, trying to satisfy Victor's desires and enjoying the process immensely; turns out that Yuuri has no qualms with hair pulling, or being ordered around, or doing just the same to Victor. That’s also why he’d answer that yes, sex with Victor is also good, because it’s not ‘just sex’: and that, to him, is very important.

 

But these are all things that Yuuri learnt on his own: so what did Victor truly teach him, ultimately?

 

The answer comes (I’m not doing it on purpose) on a rainy mid-spring night, when they’re both so exhausted from training that they can’t fall asleep and keep trying to find the right position; eventually, there’s cuddling, and said cuddling becomes kissing, and then- then, Victor opens his mouth.

Knowing the slide of tongue against tongue like the back of his hand, Yuuri is quick to ask for more: his hands slide down past Victor's collarbones, over the solid warmth of his chest, and he sighs, hands diving under Victor's thin, cotton shirt. Opening his eyes as he helps Victor strip, Yuuri’s gaze falls and stumbles, hungry, as he lunges at Victor's neck, licking its length, groaning at feeling him swallow under the wet pressure of his tongue. Before he can do anything else, Yuuri is pushed down to the bed- however, he sits back up again, tugging his own shirt off, offended by the warmth of the bed: throwing his arms around Victor's neck, he tugs him against his mouth and licks his tongue openly, lips not touching, thrusting against Victor's hand, which is currently palming his erection.

It doesn’t surprise Yuuri in the slightest: he knows Victor very well now, and has picked up on his intentions already- this time, it will be different.

 

The moan that bursts out of Victor's mouth is loud, and shameless, and absolutely _delicious._

Feeling himself stretch around Victor's cock, Yuuri keeps groaning, fingernails digging into Victor's back as he thrusts his hips back and forth, reveling in the suffocating warmth that’s filling him up.

It’s nothing like the things they did before: there’s a finality to the act, something in every shift of Victor's hips, in every fiber of Yuuri’s body that shivers at the pleasure, that says _this is it,_ and _finally._

Yuuri doesn’t like to play favourites, and he would never refuse something less intense than this - _Victor drives into him with more force now, grunting and gasping in tandem with the obscene slapping of skin_ \- but he loved the seemingly infinite amount of time that Victor took to prepare him, to stretch him open, to unwrap the condom - _he has to arch his back to take Victor deeper, now that he’s shifted the angle and pleasure sparks inside him, tearing broken, high-pitched moans out of his dry throat_ \- and how they’re looking at each other, now, without breaking eye contact, how their hearts are surely beating at the same pace. Yuuri loves all of this, down to the most insignificant detail.

Pushing Yuuri back into the mattress with the press of his own body, Victor comes, and again, it’s so different- now, Victor makes no sound, except for a single, throaty sob that makes him shiver and grab at Yuuri’s thighs with all he’s got, and for the briefest of eye contact as Victor flops down on Yuuri’s body, he knows what’s different.

Yuuri is no expert when it comes to sex, or love, or both: it’s such a new world for him, one that he’s discovering day by day, together with Victor, and he still doesn’t understand much of it.

Though, one thing is for sure: it’s not like in the movies.

It’s something else entirely, in the smile they give each other as they kiss again, and again.

  
  


“We- uh, have to clean up...”

“Yuuri, I’m so tired- can we do it later?”

“I feel gross. Please, Victor-”

“I want to _cuddle._ A lot.”

“Victor.”

  
  


(Yeah, you guessed it.)

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hurray! it's over!  
> i enjoyed writing this small collection because it was, well, smut with no plot. a great way to blow off steam in preparation for The Big Fics that are going to come #soon. i hate how you can see the sudden change between chapter 3 and 4 with my writing style and such, but hey, glad i (mostly) grew out of the less-words-is-better pit  
> hope you enjoyed! see you next fic ♥ and thank you all so much for the kudos, comments, bookmarks, and for subscribing!


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